Morgan's Woman

by Judith E. French

  "They won't catch him. Cannon knows these mountains like the back of his hand."

  "I can look after Mrs. MacGreggor if you want to join the search. I'll be happy to post her bond."

  "Ash, no." Tamsin's voice took on a shrill note as she clung to him. "You can't do this to me."

  "It would mean a lot if you'd look after her, Dimitri. I'll guarantee your bond."

  "You don't have to do that," Tamsin said angrily. "Take your bounty money and go. After all, you are the great Ash Morgan. The marshals, the posse, they're wasting their time. You're the only one who can capture these outlaws and save the hostage!"

  Ash flushed under his tan. "I know Cannon better than anyone else. I know his habits and his tricks. I won't let him lead me into an ambush."

  Dimitri laid down his pen. "Of course, Helen and I will welcome Mrs. MacGreggor into our home," he continued smoothly, as though he hadn't heard what she'd said, as though Ash's running off alone after Jack was the most natural thing in the world.

  "That's settled, then." The lawyer got to his feet. "Helen and I have had other accused ladies stay with us before, and I'm sure Judge Marlborough will agree. There's really no provision for women in the jail, and no reason for Mrs. MacGreggor to remain behind bars if she'd give me her word not to try and escape." He glanced at Tamsin.

  "Why not? No one's going to listen to anything I have to say." Suddenly tired, she sank into the chair.

  "Tamsin." Ash put a hand on her shoulder. "I have to do this. I'll be back before you go to trial."

  She raised her head and stared at him through tear-misted eyes. "Will you at least form your own posse, take armed men with you?"

  "I work better alone. Besides, I was wrong before when I thought he'd gone to his uncle's cabin. I might be pulling good guns off on another wild-goose chase."

  "And what if Jack kills you? What then?"

  He shrugged. "Honey, I've got to-"

  "I don't want to hear it!" She rose to her feet and backed away from him. "If you're going, then go- straight to hell, you bastard!"

  "Maybe I will," Ash said softly before turning to stride out of the lawyer's office, leaving her numb and heartsick, already regretting the bitter words she'd flung at him.

  Ash's determination lasted as far as McNarr's dry goods store, where he bought ammunition, a new rifle, and food to last him a week. It stayed with him as he made arrangements to sell the mule and leave Tamsin's horses at the livery stable. It even held firm as he thrust a foot into the stirrup and swung up on Shiloh's back.

  As he reined the gelding in a tight circle, Fancy raised her head and uttered a plaintive whinny. Instantly Tamsin's image formed in his mind, and Ash's steely resolve cracked.

  He swore a foul oath. "I can't do it," he muttered. "I can't abandon her."

  Dismounting, he handed Shiloh's lines to a stableman. "Put him with the others," Ash ordered gruffly. "I've changed my mind. I'll be staying in Denver."

  "How long?"

  "As long as it takes."

  Swallowing his pride, he started back for Dimitri's office and what he guessed would be a whole lot of apologizing.

  It was late afternoon by the time Dimitri, his wife Helen, and a well-chastised Ash accompanied Tamsin across the creaky floorboards into Judge Marlborough's chambers. In Dimitri's home, she'd bathed, washed, arranged her hair, and dressed from the skin out in Mrs. Zajicek's fashionable clothing.

  Jolly Helen Zajicek was three inches shorter than Tamsin and a good two stone heavier, but the good wife's whalebone-and-elastic corset crushed, pinched, and squeezed every inch of Tamsin's flesh from hip to collarbone. Side-button cloth boots, a size too small, cramped her toes. And the flannel-covered steel-cage crinoline, two petticoats, and dove-gray, shot-silk taffeta gown with its lined bodice and tightly cuffed three-quarter sleeves smothered her.

  The day was stifling hot without a hint of a breeze, but Mrs. Zajicek wore gloves, hat, and cape, and had insisted that Tamsin top her outfit in the same manner. "A lady cannot be too careful not to allow her standards to slip on the frontier," she'd said with twinkling eyes and a merry laugh.

  Tamsin felt that the widow's hair brooch at her collar was too much, but Mrs. Zajicek would not be swayed.

  "You're going before Judge Marlborough. He is extremely conservative. Under the circumstances, you must make the best possible impression."

  The judge's secretary, a dour young gentleman in a wool pin-striped suit, showed the four of them into the inner chambers, opened a heavily draped window, and let himself out through a side door.

  Tamsin sat gingerly on the edge of a chair, relieving the ache in her pinched toes, and tried to compose herself. Dimitri seemed certain that the judge would allow her to remain as their houseguest and that the trial could be moved here to Denver. She hoped the lawyer was right. But greater than her apprehension of what would happen was the fear that Ash might change his mind again and go off chasing the outlaw Cannon.

  She glanced at him for reassurance. He was a far cry from the rough bounty hunter who'd ridden into town with her. He wore an elegant, black woolen coat, a pinstriped shirt, a cravat, and a gentleman's hat. Someone who didn't know him might guess at his occupation, but no one would take him for a lawyer or a banker. Proper clothing, stylish haircut or not, Ash Morgan stood out as the dangerous man he was.

  A drop of sweat trickled down between Tamsin's breasts. She felt wrung out, limp. Even having a repentant Ash here with her didn't restore her usual optimism.

  Overhead, a fly buzzed noisily. The purple drapes hung motionless. The only sound in the room was the loud ticking of a clock on the mantel.

  Bookshelves lined two walls of the chamber. A large mahogany desk and high-backed chair dominated the room. Not a single paper, not even a pen holder, marred the polished expanse of shining wood. The odor of cigars hung heavily in the still air.

  Mrs. Zajicek sat in a chair beside Tamsin. Dimitri stood rigidly erect, hands clasped behind his back. No one spoke, and the fly continued to drone.

  Then the door opened and a portly black-haired man entered the room. His plump, florid face seemed too small for the huge black mustache, and his small, spectacled eyes peered out from under equally black brows.

  Tamsin remained silent, as Dimitri had instructed her, while he explained the situation. Judge Marlborough listened without interrupting while the lawyer asked for a change of venue and an impartial judge to hear the case.

  When Dimitri finished, Judge Marlborough removed his glasses, rubbed them with a starched handkerchief, and balanced them on his nose. He opened his top desk drawer and removed several papers. Then he rummaged in another drawer for pen and ink.

  I have a bad feeling about this, Tamsin thought. Butterflies fluttered in the pit of her stomach, and an unbearable itch had started on the right side of her back under her corset.

  Ash's gaze met hers, and he winked, offering silent comfort.

  The judge cleared his throat, then blew his nose loudly into his handkerchief. "You are Mrs. Tamsin MacGreggor?" She stood. "I am. And I want to say-" He cut her off. "Sit down, madam. Answer what I ask, no more. You'll have every opportunity at your trial." He opened the top drawer again, removed a bell, and rang it before beginning to write on the official-looking document with large bold strokes.

  Tamsin started to speak again, but Dimitri cleared his throat and motioned her to silence. The clock ticked, competing with the scratching of the judge's pen. Finally, the door opened, and Tamsin's knees went weak as Sheriff Roy Walker entered the room.

  Judge Marlborough raised his head. "Sheriff, you'll take Mrs. MacGreggor into custody and hold her in the Sweetwater jail until her trial," he ordered.

  "Like hell!" Ash leapt to his feet.

  "Hold your tongue, Mr. Morgan, or I'll find you in contempt of court."

  "This isn't a trial," he fired back. "You haven't listened-"

  "Don't tell me how to manage my courtroom!"

  "This isn't a courtroom!"
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  "Any place I say is a court. One more word from you, Mr. Morgan, and you'll find yourself behind bars."

  "Sir-" Ash began.

  "Is that clear?"

  "Crystal clear, your honor," Dimitri put in. He motioned Ash to sit down.

  "Good," Judge Marlborough said. "It's fortunate for us all that Sheriff Walker was already in Denver on prior business."

  "Please, your honor," Dimitri protested. "My client has voluntarily surrendered herself, and she's willing to post a high bail. She's no threat-"

  Walker's boot heels clicked on the polished floor as he walked toward Tamsin. "You're coming with me, lady."

  "No." She recoiled but made no attempt to flee. In these clothes, in the middle of Denver, where would she go?

  "Your honor," her lawyer argued. "Mr. Morgan-"

  "I'll take full responsibility for her appearance in your court," Ash said. "My reputation speaks for itself."

  Judge Marlborough's artificially black eyebrows came together in a forbidding frown. "This woman is accused of a heinous crime. Samuel Steele, an honest rancher and respected member of the Sweetwater community, was shot in the back. There will be no bail for your Mrs. MacGreggor. She's a citizen of Tennessee. She's already run once. I'll take no chance on it happening a second time."

  Ash leapt up again. "Don't touch her, Walker!"

  "Ashton!" Dimitri grabbed his arm and moved to block him. "This won't help our case."

  Tamsin trembled as Walker snapped a handcuff around her wrist. "She'll not get away from me, Judge." Then he brought his face so close to hers that she could smell sweat and a woman's cheap perfume lingering on his shirt. "You're under arrest for the murder of Sam Steele."

  I won't cry, Tamsin vowed as the sheriff clamped the cuff. Hopelessly, she glanced at her Ash.

  "The jail at Sweetwater isn't fit to house a gentlewoman," Dimitri said. "Surely, Denver-"

  The judge stood. "Denver is no more prepared to deal with her than Sweetwater and has less reason to bear the expense." He gestured impatiently to Walker. "Take her away, Sheriff. And I remind you that I'm holding you personally responsible for her safety until that day."

  "She's innocent!" Ash shouted.

  "I didn't shoot Sam Steele."

  "For your sake I hope you are," the judge replied sternly. "For if you're found guilty, the Territory of Colorado will exact the highest punishment. Your sex shall not help you. You'll hang by the neck until you are dead, and God have mercy on your black soul."

  Chapter 20

  In two days, Tamsin was in the Sweetwater jail and found herself the object of great speculation by the residents of the town. Two ministers, the widow Fremont who ran the boardinghouse, three members of the Methodist Women's Society, a prominent shopkeeper, and Rabbit Hawkins, the town drunk, had all found excuses to come into the jail and stare at her.

  Ash, Dimitri, and Helen had followed the sheriff and prisoner to Sweetwater. Ash rode Shiloh and tied Tamsin's horses and the Appaloosa behind Dimitri's carriage.

  By the first afternoon, Ash had found a private barn to shelter the livestock and paid a visit to Shelly at Maudine's Social Club.

  The black-haired lass welcomed him with open arms, if a little sleepily. "It's good to see you, Ash," she said, covering a dainty yawn with her hand. "Come in, but be quiet. Maudine's still sleeping."

  He followed her down the shadowy hall and into a handsome parlor furnished with velvet-covered settees and thick, rich drapes closed tightly to keep out the sunshine.

  The bawdy house was just coming alive. From the kitchen, Ash could smell baking bread and hear the soft laughter of the black cook. A calico cat curled around his leg, and Shelly scooped it up in her arms.

  "You know you've got no business in this room, Silky," she cooed. She rubbed her artificially red cheek against the cat's fur and threw Ash a saucy look. "Still cold in the mountains? Heard you tracked down that back-shooting woman that murdered Sam."

  Shelly was barely dressed, her voluptuous figure adorned with lacy drawers, black stockings, and a corset beneath her dragon-red Chinese robe. The scent of jasmine clung to her hair and silk wrapper.

  She opened a sliding door to another room and pushed the cat in. "Polly," she called softly. "Come get Silky. Maudine warned you about letting him in the front parlor." Then she turned to Ash with a professional smile. "I suppose you'll be wanting a bath."

  "And a little of your time, darlin'."

  "Official time, or friendly time?"

  He passed her a handful of silver dollars. "I'd like to talk to you, just talk, nothin' more. I need some answers, about an old customer of yours."

  "Wouldn't be Sam Steele, would it?"

  "And Edwards at the livery."

  Shelly glanced over her shoulder to see if they were alone. "Sam was a regular, but you know we don't talk about gentlemen friends. Edwards never came here. He likes his pleasure cheap."

  "You don't discuss business. I know that. What I want to hear is gossip. There isn't much that goes on in Sweet-water that Maudine's ladies don't know."

  "Isn't that the truth?"

  Ash turned toward the new voice. Maudine LaFrance was standing in the doorway that led to the entrance hall. "Good afternoon, ma'am," he said. "I was just-"

  "Looking to get me and my girls in trouble?" Maudine was barely five feet tall, somewhere between fifty and eighty, with the complexion of an English dairymaid and the eyes of a tiger. Once stunning, she was now, in Ash's eyes, merely elegant. Her voice for all her air of authority was surprisingly high and girlish.

  "You know me better than that, Mrs. LaFrance." He flashed her what he hoped was an endearing grin. "I'm trying to help a lady out of a bad spot. I need information, and I'm willing to-"

  Maudine waved her hand. "No, Mr. Morgan. It's not necessary to mention an amount. I know you'll be more than generous. But you must understand that anything you learn here must never reflect on me or my ladies."

  "No, ma'am, it won't," he promised.

  "And none of us will testify in a court of law. You do understand that?"

  "Yes, ma'am."

  Maudine smiled. "Then I see no problem." She looked at Shelly. "Take Mr. Morgan to the bathing room and give him whatever he requires."

  "That's what I like about you, Mrs. LaFrance," Ash replied. "You're a sensible woman."

  "Save your compliments for Shelly." Maudine paused, touching her cheek lightly with one painted fingernail. "And, after your bath, leave your cash donation in the blue ginger jar in the front hall on your way out."

  Later, Ash visited Tamsin at the jail. "I won't be here in the morning," he said. "I have some things I have to do, but don't worry, I'll be back by evening."

  "What things? Does it have anything to do with Jack Cannon?" she asked.

  "No, it doesn't. It has to do with clearing you. Trust me, Tamsin. You're not getting rid of me so easily."

  She'd passed a sleepless night in the bare cell and was still bleary eyed when Dimitri appeared early in the morning.

  In one hand the dapper lawyer carried his black leather briefcase. Under the other arm he balanced a tray with a teapot, cups, sugar, cream, and hot cinnamon scones.

  "I thought perhaps a decent cup of tea would cheer you up. Lemon wasn't available. I hope you like milk."

  "It's fine, thank you. I don't understand why you're doing all this for me," Tamsin said as Dimitri set the tea tray on the wooden stool in her cell and removed several hard-boiled eggs from his pocket. "You don't know me. You don't know if I'm lying about the murder. You have no reason to trust me, yet you've left your home and other clients to come here and concentrate on my case." She chuckled. "And you've brought breakfast."

  Pleasantly embarrassed, Dimitri tugged at his high collar and cleared his throat. His black coat and waistcoat were immaculate, his white shirt was starched, his trousers bore a knife-edge crease, and his shoes were shiny enough for Tamsin to see her reflection.

  He looked totally out of place in
this dingy jail cell that smelled of stale urine and despair. Yet, he managed to appear undaunted by the bleak surroundings.

  "Ashton trusts you," he said. "I've never known him to be wrong about a person's character." He smiled. "And I do have some aptitude in that area myself. I'm convinced you're not a murderess."

  "Even believing in my innocence, you're going beyond your duty as my lawyer. Not that I don't appreciate it. I do, it's just that I don't have any money to-"

  "You must not be concerned with finances. Ashton has generously guaranteed all my expenses. He offered to pay my fee, but I'll accept none from him, ever." Dimitri gestured grandly. "Ashton saved my wife's life. That's how we met him. My dearest Helen was coming west from Baltimore to join me. She and Ashton were on the same train traveling through Missouri when it was attacked by Confederate sympathizers."

  "During the war?"

  "Yes." Dimitri nodded. "Yes, in '62. When the rebels entered the car, demanded all the passengers' valuables, and began shooting, Ashton threw himself over my wife and took a bullet to protect her. Wounded, he killed two of the marauders and drove off the others. Neither of us will ever forget that gallant deed." He chuckled. "Besides, Ashton plays a tolerable game of chess. And you have no idea how difficult it is to find a decent opponent west of Baltimore."

  "Ash is a good man, isn't he?"

  "The best," Dimitri agreed. "Smart, absolutely fearless, and honest to the bone. He should have taken up the study of law. He'd have made a fine judge." He smiled, revealing a silver filling in an eyetooth. "I'm not blind, Mrs. MacGreggor. It's clear what the relationship is between the two of you. And you needn't fear; Ashton has none but the most honorable intentions toward you. I'm certain of it."

  "I wish I had your faith." Tamsin rose to pace nervously. "Have you spoken with Henry Steele?"

  "Yes, I have. He's quite adamant about what he found in the barn. He'll be a good witness for the prosecution. I always advise my clients to avoid being found standing over a body whenever possible." Dimitri chuckled at his bit of humor and adjusted the knot of his perfectly tied cravat.